


Let Us Do Better

by MangroveBaby



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Embarrassment, F/M, Moving On, Regret, Shyness, fixing mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangroveBaby/pseuds/MangroveBaby
Summary: A short fiction about the difficultly of change and what happens after. Now with a second chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

They had changed, the castle staff. In becoming people again, they had changed in ways she would not have expected, even if she could have imagined where any of it would end. Belle had not realized during her weeks in the castle, that some parts of their behavior were a symptom of the curse. What she had thought were quirks of their personalities, were no more than compulsions of their decline into inanimate objects. 

Lumiere, for example, was lively and chatty. But he no longer insisted on following her around that the castle, pointing out whatever they saw and telling her about it. It was the job of a candle to illuminate, and he had simply been doing his duty. 

Dear Mrs. Potts, with her kind words and listening ear. And now with her thoughtful gifts of blankets, pillows, books, pens, paper--whatever Belle might most be needing--instead of her former, insistent cups of tea. 

And Madame de Garderobe. Why, it seemed she was no lover of fashion at all! But the sleeping and the singing, that had remained.

Belle had learned this all in the past three days. Three strange, perplexing days since the curse was lifted and everything had changed.

Finally, there was Prince Adam. If Belle was confused by everyone else, she was most confused by him. After the first great rush of relief at his being alive, they had both pulled back in shyness. She knew that it should not matter, but she could not entirely reconcile what she saw with what she expected. If they could only find the time to sit and talk, Belle thought, then perhaps she could grow used to it all. But The Prince has all but disappeared along with The Beast, in the chaos and change.

Belle thought all this while lying on her bed, high in the tower of the East Wing. Her room is silent--tonight, no living furniture or knickknacks surprised her with speech and movement. It was late in the evening and the castle had quieted considerably. But it was not so late that Prince Adam was likely asleep. He kept late hours, that much she was sure was not different.

He answered the west wing door himself, when she knocked, looking uncertainly through the crack between door and wall.

"Good evening," said Belle. She bowed first, then smiled as she greeted him, begging him silently to smile back at her.

He did, in a small way, though he avoided meeting her gaze. She noticed, though, that his eyes were red and sunken. He had been crying recently. Still, he invited her in, asked her to sit, brought her a cushion, and offered her wine. And having done all that, he seemed to search around for some other service that he might offer her.

She thanked him and asked him to join her instead.

He took a deep breath, as if fortifying himself, then sat by her side on the divan. Belle almost laughed uncomfortably at the strangeness of it. 

"We are a bit of a mess, aren't we," she observed.

Prince Adam's expression dropped further.

Belle decided it was no time to be coy. In the bravest act she had managed since the night Adam nearly died, she reached out and took his hand. He looked confused, blue eyes asking to know what she would do next.

"Do not be concerned," she said holding his palm as firmly as she dared. "It is only that the last few days have been…disorienting. So much has happened. I have been doing my best to think on it and tonight I found that I very much needed to see you. I…hope that is alright that I am here."

He nodded silently. Belle was disappointed. If only he would talk, she thought, then she might recognize her beloved's voice. 

She tried asking, "what has occupied you today? Cogsworth told me there was a great deal to be done."

Prince Adam's fair cheeks flushed red.

"It is only business. And letters," he gestured towards a desk in the back of the room.

Bell nodded warmly, encouragingly, so he went on. "I cannot understand it, but it is as if almost no time at all has passed. I am receiving correspondence referring to things before the curse as if they have just happened. A letter came today from my cousin reminding me that it is time to join him in the country for the hunt. I used to travel with him every autumn. But this trip should have been years and years ago."

"Oh." There was certainly something strange about the way that time had passed. Belle had noticed it also, though she had not worked out exactly what had happened. "So, will you go?"

Prince Adam laughed just under his breath, but his answer was firm. "No," he said.

"Well, why not? Wouldn't it be nice to see your cousin after all this time?"

"God no. I…I am too new at this."

Belle looked hard at him. Too hard. He broke her gaze and stood, offering to bring tea, or more wine. "Or anything else you might fancy?"

"No, thank you. And I am sorry," she said, resettling her white robe under her after she tried to reach for him. She must be gentle. He was like a scared dog. 

Finally Prince Adam sat again, his head bowed low. 

"I still have a great deal of confessing to do," he told her, in a low, quiet voice. "I shall be eternally grateful to you for saving us all, but I am afraid that you have loved unwisely, and too soon.

"Perhaps you have already discovered that."

If he looked burdened before, now he looked terrified. Belle shook her head, wanting to ease his aching spirit. 'My friend, there are…"

"Lessons learned must still be lived," he said, interrupting her. 

What did he mean?

"I was an awful person here. Every beautiful thing that I have touched since the change has reminded me of that," he told her, gesturing around the elegant room. "And though I learned a lot while I was cursed, I am unsure now how I must use those lessons. 

Belle was caught without the words to respond. They had started a similar conversation, weeks ago, after the curse had first been explained to her by the castle staff. The Beast had spoken then of regret, though not with any detail. Guilt was a strange burden--it looked so different on different shoulders. And Prince Adam carried his sheltered near to his heart.

"The witch…" he continued, "It was stupid, but I never thought about what would happen after she turned me back. I thought it would be like before, but this seems a beautiful, gilded, and dangerous world now."

"It is hard to see the future, but that does not mean that it cannot be navigated," Belle said, feeling how insufficient her consolation was.

"Besides the letter from my cousin, there have been four other similar invitations, arrived this week. And worse things. Cogsworth vacillates on whether he will allow me to decline them all."

"You do need time," Belle affirmed. "You may want to travel and visit someday, but that does not mean you must go now."

"Yes," he said acknowledging, but not agreeing. He turned to her. "Belle, if I fail again, what will happen? It is not only the curse that worries me. All men can harm, but I have a talent for it."

"Put your talent elsewhere." He was capable of it. She had seen it.

Prince Adam let out a deep breath of air. Then started again, "I am also a coward. I know that if I could hide my sins I would not be telling you this now--

"There is a woman on her way here. I have tried to stop her, but she was already on the road by the time that I remembered. Two grooms are attempting one more time to have her delayed in Villeneuve, but otherwise she will arrive here tomorrow."

"Why stop this woman?" Belle asked, though she thought she knew the answer already.

Adam looked warily at her from under a heavy, furrowed brow. "Because she was my lover." 

Belle shook her head. "That is not so bad." 

"It is. We were. I would rather be a monster again than have you and her together in one place."

Belle winced. "What does that mean?" Her words sounded too accusatory, even as she said them, but she did not know how to understand him. 

"She and I were quite cruel to each other. And even more so to others. I hope that someday she too finds her redemption, but until then, I would not put her in a room with anything that I cherished.

"I had been thinking, before you came up tonight, how I might send you away for a few days. Villeneuve will not do, but perhaps Paris? You can take Mademoiselle Plumette or your father to shop there. I will buy you anything that you want."

It was strange, Belle thought, how very like himself the Beast still was.

"No. I don't want to go away," she told him as firmly as she could manage. The Prince was still too much used to directing people around. Lessons learned must still be lived.

She went on. "I don't pretend to know everything, but of course starting new is hard. People you once knew will not suddenly change their mind about you. I know that from the villagers already. You are no doubt right, that I should not be there when you talk to your friend. But when you are done…"

Belle felt precarious. 

"I would like for you to be nearby," he finished for her.

"I would like to be there." 

Prince Adam bent his head, resting his brow on her shoulder. "I am afraid of scaring you away."

With her hand, she found the hair at the nap of his neck and pulled his cheek close to hers. "That is life. But we make it anew. Let us do better tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Her name was Madame Louise Elisabeth d'Orleans. She was married, though to what quality of man, Belle did not know. Monsieur Lumiere had much to say about the woman before a panicked Mrs. Potts drove him away mid sentence.

Belle knew, though begrudgingly, that it was for the best. She would not have had the willpower to stop Lumiere from talking on. A dangerous curiosity had long been a weakness of hers, and right now she very desperately wanted to hear more about the woman who was meeting with Prince Adam.

There were other options of course. Belle knew that Madame d'Orleans and the Prince sat in the main salon. If she asked someone from the staff to announce her into the room, they certainly would. Wouldn't that be a surprise? Also, the main salon was a large and airy room with many doors and windows. If she wished, Belle could sit next to one of those doors and listen. She was sure there must be one or two servants who were already doing the same.

But instead, Belle was spending the day outdoors. She had decided just that morning that she would build an English-style garden on the palace grounds. Adam's mother, though she was from Austria, had English ancestry. And the woman had started to lay out what would have been an informal garden, with a small pond, on the west side of the castle. Belle had learned of it during breakfast. And because she needed something to do that was more substantial than sitting and waiting, she threw herself into planning, mapping, and taking stock of the site.

Belle wiped her brow with the back of her wrist. She looked around. This could be a pretty space, she thought. The soft dirt, warm sun, figures, and sketches felt comfortable and real compared to the raw feeling near her heart. 

It was past noon now and Belle took a break to drink water and sit. The head gardener, Herr Spaten, sat with her. Though he was not much for conversation, he had spent the entire morning taking her around and answering her questions. She had already known him slightly from before as a shovel, but his previous duty had been the rather lonely one of clearing walkways and paths of their snow during the eternal winter. He seemed happier now, Belle thought. At the moment he was turning his face, eyes closed, towards the sun. 

Belle kicked at the mud that was clotted onto her boots. She needed a bath. And she found herself looking again, for the hundredth time perhaps, towards the castle. Belle had worked diligently until an hour ago, when the far off sound of horses and groaning straps told her that a carriage was coming. Concentrating had gotten harder since then, though nothing much had moved or changed that she could see. What if Madame d'Orleans stayed for dinner? Surely it was still too early to worry, yes? 

It was not that Belle was afraid exactly. But this was a matter so wholly out of her experience, she was not sure if she could trust herself.

Belle had seen the Prince only briefly since they spoke last night. He looked braver by the light of day. Though no longer a beast, he was still strongly built. And in his inner struggles, he had adopted a posture that she would have described as cocky. She had seen him do it before, when threatened. He was ready for a fray.

Lumiere did not like the Madame. The man had made that clear. 

"You will not see Plumette today," he told Belle. "M. d'Orleans used to toy with the lady's maids. She would compliment them, then accuse them of things, then coerce and threaten them. Plumette is afraid of her."

Prince Adam would stop the Madame sometimes, but only because he was possessive of his staff and did not like her presumption. That was what he told Belle anyway, during his confession last night. The staff saw his behavior more favorably. Lumiere thought he protected them.

But still, "she introduced him to a terrible crowd of libertines. I would call his fascination with her, the beginning of the end," said Lumiere. He shook his head. 

Belle went to wash her hands in the nearest fountain. She saw Mrs. Potts coming across the park with a basket lunch. The older lady looked tired, her lips thin and pressed together with concern. 

"Will you join me deary? I would like to know what you have been planning out here."

Belle nodded.

Mrs. Potts turned and quietly said to the gardener, "Go and get your lunch, I've got her for the next hour at least." 

Belle's heart warmed a little. She realized that the castle staff had been coordinating their time with her, and she felt a pang of affection for the quiet, little man who spent so long making sure that she was busy today.

"Let me help you," Belle said, taking one end of the blanket that they were to sit on. 

"Cuisinier has packed us some very nice things." Mrs. Potts began to pull out bread and jars of jam, cheese, cut fruits and vegetables. It did look nice and Belle was hungry.

"How has your morning been?" Belle asked as she spread jam and butter on her bread.

Mrs. Potts' expression froze a moment. "You know," she finally said, "I've realized today just how silly I have been. I thought that the hard part was over."

Belle laughed a little. "Me too. How naive of us."

"Will you show me your pictures?" Mrs. Potts asked. She pointed to the folio that Belle had at her side. "Herr Spaten has been waiting a long time to work on this part of the garden."

Belle had done her planning sketches in her little notebook with black grease pencil. The images were rough, but there was still enough detail to convey an idea of what she intended with the space.

"What a wonderful gift you have!" Mrs. Potts said. "You have such a talent for imagining things as they could be." 

Belle let out a deep breath. "I think that I am done working on it today. I want to do more, but I am burning with impatience," she admitted.

Mrs. Potts nodded and began to repack the basket. "Let's go back inside. We can enter the castle from the rear. Then it is straight up to your room where we will draw you a bath."

For how long?, Belle wanted to ask. But it was something at least.

Mrs. Potts brought her to a little door at the base of the southwest castle wall that led directly into the kitchens. Cuisinier and a sous chef stood talking just inside. A single, large pot bubbled on the stove of the otherwise quiet and empty room. 

"That smells amazing," said Belle as the steamy, fragrant scent of herbs and meat broth filled her nose. 

"It is a consommé for dinner," replied the chef. He smiled at the recognition. 

"Dear," Mrs. Potts said to Belle, "I need a few minutes to have water heated and everything prepared. I will meet you in your room." Though she normally resisted letting Belle use the servant's staircases, today she pointed her to the closest flight.

So up Belle went. 

Damn, Belle thought as she climbed, remembering that she had left the book she was reading in the breakfast room that morning. The novel was silly and pleasant and perfect for when life was complicated; but the breakfast room was too close to the main salon, and Belle balked at the possibility of an unwanted encounter. Though she had not promised Adam that she would stay out of sight, she recognized that no good could come of her and the Madame meeting. If Belle must read, then the library would be a better choice. In and out quickly, and then up to her room for a bath, she promised.

So instead of continuing up another flight of stairs, Belle cut to the left. There, she ran down a small, plain hallway that ran parallel to a larger main hall. At the end of the hall was a door, and twenty feet from that little door was the library entrance. 

Belle put her hand on the library door, pushed, and stopped short. The room was not empty!

Inside were Prince Adam and Madame d'Orleans. Belle jumped back and retreated to a nearby alcove just before the door opened and the two emerged. 

Out the woman walked. Madame d'Orleans was small, pretty, and unassuming. Belle was close enough to see that the expression on her face was passive--no emotion stronger than vague satisfaction or vague upset could be suspected of a person looking like that. Her clothes were fine, but not fancy. By outward appearance she was not at all a figure to strike fear.

Adam, on the other hand, looked angry. He carried a large, gilded book in his hands.

Madame d'Orleans saw Belle first. And she did nothing.

Adam saw her a moment later and looked quickly from Belle to the Madame. No one said anything, and in a brief moment they had swept past and were gone down the hall.

Belle clutched her stomach and then fled away in the opposite direction, towards her room.

***  
Three quarters of an hour later Belle had bathed, changed her clothes, and retreated to the sitting room in the East tower, were she sat making notes in her notebook. Two short knocks sounded on the door and she bade whoever was there to come inside. 

It was Prince Adam.

"May I join you?"

"Of course."

She put her pencil and paper to the side and began to take stock. He had changed his clothes since she saw him and was now dressed down in breeches and a waistcoat. He took a seat in the chair facing hers. They were separated by a few feet of space and a small table. Adam leaned forward in the chair, closing some of that distance. He looked as though he were thinking carefully about what he would do next. 

"I wanted to apologize to you for the book," he said.

Belle nearly shook her head. The book? Out of everything, why that?

"I did not ask before I took it," he explained. But seeing she was still confused he added, "I meant it when I said that the library was yours. I should not have removed anything without asking you, let alone given something away."

"Alright."

"Really," he pressed. "The library is yours and you may dispose if it as you wish. If you want every book in that room packed up and sent to your father's house, I will do it."

"The impracticality of that aside, it will not be necessary." She thought of her little home stacked floor to celling with thousands of volumes. "So you gave her a book?" Belle kept her question purposefully gentle and vague. 

"I did," he started slowly. "It was a family history."

"Yours?"

"Ours," he clarified. "The lady and I share the same great-grandfather, on my mother's side. 

Belle had not known that. 

He went on. "We are related on my father's side also, though more distantly. And she is married to my Uncle's son."

"Charming."

He blushed. "It is a small world."

"I'm not related to any of my cousins more than once."

"I only meant the world of the French royal family is very small. But for that matter, you can't really know that, about your cousins, can you?"

"No, I am fairly certain. We are a small family."

Prince Adam conceded with a nod and slumped back into his chair. He looked tired. "I don't think that we will be getting that volume back. She said that she wanted to have a copy made of the genealogy, but it was not an honest request, I imagine." 

Adam was not happy with the idea. He looked troubled. "I am sorry," Belle said.

"I am only sorry because it was my mothers. And because it is yours."

Belle eased back until she was half reclining in her seat, mirroring the man across from her. "Perhaps it makes more sense for the library to be ours, instead of mine alone."

Adam look hard at her, studying her expression. "No," he shook his head and sighed, "keep this. Share if you want, but you deserve to have things that I cannot control."

She yielded.

"I have something else for you," he said. "It is not penance, because I was planning to give it to you before today. But perhaps it can help swing the balance of the day in our favor." 

He reached into his vest pocket and took out a small fabric pouch. Leaning forward, he put it in to Belle's hand. The bag was weighty as she shifted it in her palm. She pulled the drawstring and found inside a pretty gold chain and a small orange garnet set in a pendent the shape of the sun. Belle smoothed the stone with the flat of her thumb.

"Thank you. It is beautiful."

"It was my mother's also."

"Does it have a story?" 

"No," he said mildly. "Only that it was something she liked to wear and something that I was fond of." 

The sun pendant was well made, Belle thought. She appreciated the careful design and the skillful cut of the stone. "Should I save it for special occasions?" 

Adam shook his head. "Not unless you want to."

Belle turned the necklace around. "Will you help me with the clasp?"

Adam sat up and came over to her side. He took the two ends of the chain from her hands and fastened them at the back of her neck. 

"That would have been a harder task a week ago." 

Belle laughed and smiled back at him. She reached around and took his hand in hers. "Are you hungry? 

"Yes," he nodded. "Famished even."

"Excellent. Cuisinier's consommé smelled too good to wait for dinner. And talking is better done while eating."

"Mrs. Potts told me that you have been busy today."

"Yes. That is a good place to start. Let's go and make plans."

Adam pulled Belle up from her chair and together they went, hand in hand.


End file.
